“Many are the causes,” continued the Duke, “which, besides my disposition, move me to peace.  My father and mother are dead; my son is a young prince; my house has truly need of my presence.  I am not ignorant how ticklish a thing is the fortune of war, which—­how victorious soever I have been—­may in one moment not only deface the same, but also deprive me of my life.  The King, my master, is now, stricken in years, his children are young, his dominions in trouble.  His desire is to live, and to leave his posterity in quietness.  The glory of God, the honor of both their Majesties, and the good of these countries, with the stay of the effusion of Christian blood, and divers other like reasons, force him to peace.”

Thus spoke Alexander, like an honest Christian gentleman, avowing the most equitable and pacific dispositions on the part of his master and himself.  Yet at that moment he knew that the Armada was about to sail, that his own nights and days were passed in active preparations for war, and that no earthly power could move Philip by one hair’s-breadth from his purpose to conquer England that summer.

It would be superfluous to follow the Duke or the Doctor through their long dialogue on the place of conference, and the commissions.  Alexander considered it “infamy” on his name if he should send envoys to a place of his master’s held by the enemy.  He was also of opinion that it was unheard of to exhibit commissions previous to a preliminary colloquy.

Both propositions were strenuously contested by Rogers.  In regard to the second point in particular, he showed triumphantly, by citations from the “Polonians, Prussians, and Lithuanians,” that commissions ought to be previously exhibited.  But it was not probable that even the Doctor’s learning and logic would persuade Alexander to produce his commission; because, unfortunately, he had no commission to produce.  A comfortable argument on the subject, however, would, none the less, consume time.

Three hours of this work brought them, exhausted and hungry; to the hour of noon and of dinner Alexander, with profuse and smiling thanks for the envoy’s plain dealing and eloquence, assured him that there would have been peace long ago “had Doctor Rogers always been the instrument,” and regretted that he was himself not learned enough to deal creditably with him.  He would, however, send Richardot to bear him company at table, and chop logic with him afterwards.

Next day, at the same, hour, the Duke and Doctor had another encounter.  So soon as the envoy made his appearance, he found himself “embraced most cheerfully and familiarly by his Alteza,” who, then entering at once into business, asked as to the Doctor’s second point.

The Doctor answered with great alacrity.

“Certain expressions have been reported to her Majesty,” said he, “as coming both from your Highness and from Richardot, hinting at a possible attempt by the King of Spain’s forces against the Queen.  Her Majesty, gathering that you are going about belike to terrify her, commands me to inform you very clearly and very expressly that she does not deal so weakly in her government, nor so improvidently, but that she is provided for anything that might be attempted against her by the King, and as able to offend him as he her Majesty.”